Bottles bend their necks like thighs
diffusing light into green dust
that falls in small strips
through slatted wicker
over apple’s waxed red flesh.
A towering city of cheese
wedges blue-veined buildings
into a pungent neighborhood
where olives fuss over holes in Swiss stoops,
and silver fish squeeze into tin boats
only to be lifted slack
and plopped into the gullets of forever.
Brenda Warren 2014
Notes: I started with the first line, and decided to imagine a still life painting. When the words ‘plop,’ ‘squeeze,’ and ‘slack’ were left, all I could imagine was sardines. They do add to the pungency of the neighborhood, and they brought an unexpected ending to the piece.